Re-identified
by thetyger
Summary: 'A noise from behind made him jump in surprise, and he spun around quickly… he barely had time to focus his blurring eyes before the cold metal of the gun made contact with his head, and Dr Spencer Reid was engulfed by blackness.'
1. Prologue

**A/N: So I am completely in love with Criminal Minds, especially Reid! This is my first Criminal Minds fan fic, so I hope you like it! And please review!**

**I want to say a massive thankyou to my beta Cliara Aedai! You're advise and help has been completely amazing!**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Criminal Minds, or the fabulous Dr Reid. **

* * *

**Re**-**id**entified

**_Prologue_**

'I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.' - Maya Angelou

* * *

Dr Spencer Reid woke earlier than usual, the orange glow of the morning sun outside barely peering over the horizon. He stared at the plain white ceiling for a couple of moments, begging for sleep to return. He turned from side to side, trying to find a comfortable position to drift off once again, pulling the duvet up under his chin. But no position he tried was having the desired result, and half an hour later he finally gave in. There was simply no getting back to sleep, so instead he made the decision to have an early start, albeit half-heartedly.

He pushed the covers aside, rose to his feet, and stretched. Arms raised above his head, he groaned as his muscles adjusted from their overnight lack of use. Getting dressed was a slow process, but he persevered anyway, pulling on one blue sock and one green from their place inside the colour coded draw, buttoning up his neatly white pressed shirt and grabbing a striped woollen vest.

Entering the kitchen, he filled a bowl with cereal, drizzling milk over thee top before settled down at the table, book in hand. He flicked though page after page, slurping up his breakfast as he allowed his mind to become engrossed in the words before him. Eyes scanning each page within seconds, any normal person would have been unable to take in more than a sentence or two in such time. And even those sentences read would have been difficult to understand without constantly referring to a dictionary, given the complex language used. But Dr Reid was certainly _not _'any normal person'. After finishing his lengthy breakfast, he stood to clean his dishes, however a noise from behind made him jump in surprise, and he spun around quickly, nearly sending the bowl in his hand crashing to the floor.

Reid scanned the room, a frown etched on his face as he searched for the source of the unexpected sound. When nothing seemed out of place, he dismissed the sound for the wind outside, and returned to the task at hand, mentally cursing himself for such paranoid behaviour.

Around half an hour later he placed the finished book back in its place on the alphabetically ordered bookcase that reached from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. Glancing down at his watch, he decided it was a reasonable time to set off for work. He laced up his black converse sneakers, picked up his worn, brown leather bag and heading back into his bedroom to collect his gun, holster and ID.

As he entered the room, he noticed his bedside lamp had been moved slightly from where he'd last left it. Such things irked Reid's slightly perfectionist nature, and he moved to straighten it to its rightful position. However, the sudden sound of the door creaking behind him distracted the doctor from his trivial task. He turned around purposefully; reaching for his gun that he knew was resting on the side table closest to him. But before he had a chance to grasp it, he was hit hard on the back of the head.

He cried out in surprise, falling to the ground with a painful thump. The gun just an arms length away was snatched up by a masked figure just as he tried to reach for it once again, in the desperate attempt to defend himself. He held a hand up to his searing head, and was alarmed when he felt warm blood dripping down his arm.

"What do you want?" he mumbled incoherently, his head spinning, just as the figure raised the gun. He barely had time to focus his blurring eyes before the cold metal of the gun made contact with his head, and Dr Spencer Reid was engulfed by blackness, eyes rolling back as he slumping to the ground.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thankyou for reading this, I really hope you enjoy it! **

**Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own Criminal Minds :(**

* * *

_**Chapter 1**_

Morgan entered the bullpen, using the side of his body to push open the tall glass doors, his hands otherwise occupied. He carried his morning cup of coffee, whilst precariously juggling a pile of brown manila folders, over to the desk where his three female colleagues were deep in discussion. He'd only just arrived, late as usual with traffic yet again to blame, and felt a caffeine hit was exactly what was needed to wake him up. The closest of the women in front of him had a serious expression on her face, her brow creased as she spoke. She leant back, half sitting on the desk behind her, her short dark hair just brushing the shoulders of her professional-looking black blazer. Next, contrastingly dressed in a bright pink floral-patterned dress and yellow knitted cardigan, the shortest of the three was listening intently, pushing her intricately decorated pair of purple glasses farther up her nose every now and again. She twirled a fluffy pink pen between her fingers, adding to her unique and slightly abstract appearance. On the far end, the tall, attractive blonde had her palms resting against the back of the closest chair as she listened and occasionally contributed to the conversation.

"Hey ladies, what's happening?" he asked with his typical flirtatious tone. He threw the folders down on the nearest desk, flinging an arm around Garcia's waist - nearly spilling his coffee in the process - and smiling broadly whilst winking at JJ with a jovial smirk.

JJ rolled her eyes with an unfazed smile, too used to his antics to take any notice, laughing along with Garcia and Prentiss.

"We were just talking about how this is the first time in ages that we haven't got a case," Prentiss explained, brushing her hair behind her ear as she spoke.

"Don't we?" Morgan questioned, eyebrows raised in surprised. It was very rare for the BAU to have much time at all between cases. Typically they began a new case only a day or two after returning from the previous one. Yet it had been almost a week since they'd caught their latest serial killer, and they were still without something new to work on. They almost found themselves wishing for a new case, though this thought was banished as quickly as it had formed, since fulfilling this wish would involve the deaths of innocent people.

"Well, that's a good thing isn't it? It means there are no psychopaths out there killing innocent victims for fun or going on killing sprees instead of shopping sprees," Garcia pointed out, convinced by her logic. Despite the confronting images and horrifically detailed descriptions of murder she was exposed to almost every day, she never failed to see the positives in a seemingly negative situation, and this was no exception.

"It doesn't mean they're not killing, it just means nobody knows about it yet," JJ said with a sigh. She hated to shatter her innocent friend's refreshingly optimistic view of the world, but sadly the reality was far from positive.

Morgan gazed around the room as he took a sip from his mug, noticing Rossi reading in the far corner of the bullpen. Another glance showed Hotch filling out paperwork in his office, head buried in piles of notes. With every other team member accounted for, he couldn't help noticing they were one person short.

"Hey, where's Pretty Boy?" he asked, only just noticing Reid's absence. It was unusual for him to be late, given his tendency to notice even milliseconds passing by. This in addition to his lack of a social life gave him little excuse for a belated arrival to work.

"I don't know. I called his mobile twice, but he didn't answer. I just assumed he was with you," Prentiss replied, a perturbed look crossing her face, though she was slightly relieved at the knowledge she wasn't the only one bothered by the fact the genius wasn't present. She'd been beginning to wonder if she was just being paranoid, a habit that irritated her immensely.

"I called his home phone about five times, and he didn't pick up there either," JJ said, her eyes wide. They all looked at each other, worry finally beginning to set in. One missed call for Reid was a usual occurrence, but seven was unheard of. He was _always_ contactable, even at the most ungodly of hours. This, in conjunction with his absence caused, their worry to increase, their indefinite concerns beginning to become a reality.

"If he wasn't at home he'd have his mobile on, and if he _was _he would have answered his landline," Garcia thought aloud, piecing the worrying facts together, her voice low in distressed realisation. She covered her bright red lips with the palm of her hand, unable to remain calm any longer given the circumstances.

"He's probably just caught in traffic and forgot to charge his phone," Morgan presumed confidently with a little smile, in an attempt to reassure the girls, although truth-be-told he was trying to convince himself at the same time. Behind his back, his hands were jittery with uneasiness. He was irked by the fact his immediate assumption had been one of such negativity, with very little evidence to back this theory up. However the more he thought about it, the more this assumption seemed like one of very few other plausible explanations for Reid's absence.

"What's wrong?" Rossi asked as he joined their little huddle. He'd notice from metres away the concern his friends were sharing as he peered over his novel, a habit he'd picked up many years ago whilst he'd still been training to become a profiler. He'd frequently watched completely oblivious passer-by's from behind a newspaper, calculating their behaviour and gaining an insight into their lives. Surrounded by profilers, analysis was a slightly more challenging task, since the ability to notice specific behaviours brought with it the heightened skill to hide any revealing emotions. Yet anxiety was the most changing to camouflage, so he had little trouble piecing together his team members' mixed reactions to the issue being discussed; JJ's darting eyes, Morgan's constant fidgeting, Prentiss' wide eyes and Garcia's clearly troubled expression.

"Reid's not here yet," Morgan informed him. He stood tall, his eyes staring at Rossi as he tried to stay focused. However, the worry he truly felt threatened to burst through with every word. It took every ounce of his control to remain in control, though he knew full well Rossi would see though this charade.

In any other situation Rossi would have been unconcerned by this comment. After all, it _was_ physically possible for Reid to be late. Three doctorates and an IQ of 187 didn't make a person immune from getting delayed or distracted. However, he'd seen the evidence of worry in their actions, and knew them well enough to know that they wouldn't jump to conclusions without firm reasoning to suggest something was wrong.

"Maybe we should speak to Hotch," he suggested without any further questioning. He trusted their instincts as much as he trusted his own.

* * *

Hotch looked up, slightly startled, from his paperwork when he heard the fist rapping loudly on his door, sounding hurried and urgent. He rose from his chair, placing the document he had been reading down on the desk, and turning his attention to the door.

"Come in," he called, and was surprised to see his entire team filing into the small room. Like Rossi, he knew immediately something was amiss. As they crammed together inside the room, he scanned their faces one by one, quickly deciphering the issue at hand.

"Reid's not here?" he asked, and his presumption was confirmed by grim nods from each of them. "And you've called him?" was his next question, though he already knew the answer. He knew they wouldn't raise a concern with him unless they were almost certain something was up.

"I called him twice on his mobile, and JJ's called his home phone five times," he was informed professionally by Prentiss, though it was still obvious she was uneasy. Her eyes continued to avoid his own, peering down at her feet and around the room instead.

"Okay, first you all need to calm down," Hotch told them in an attempt to prevent his team from stressing unnecessarily. After all, there was no proof that their concerns had any truth behind them yet. Though even he had to admit, the likelihood something was amiss was high. "It's possible that there is a perfectly rational explanation for Reid being late. However, I'll send Morgan and JJ to check up on him just in case."

This seemed to reassure the team, and they left slightly more relaxed than they'd entered. Although not much.

* * *

The drive to Reid's apartment seemed to take hours, and JJ clasped her hands together nervously for the entire journey. Outwardly Morgan seemed calm, though his stomach felt as though it was doing back flips churning around and around to the point of nausea. Despite his best efforts to think positively, he couldn't wipe the horrifying images of Reid tied up, injured, or even dead, from his mind. He began tapping the steering wheel with his fingers in agitation and restlessness. He couldn't stand not knowing what was happening to his friend whilst he sat comfortably in the SUV, helpless to prevent any suffering Reid was possibly experiencing.

He shook his head, clearing the negative thoughts from his overactive imagination. Presuming the worst would help no one, least of all Reid. If something really had happened, Morgan would need a clear head in order to help him.

On arrival, the pair threw the SUV doors open wide, sprinting to Reid's door whilst still trying to keep some sense of formality and calm. Morgan knocked, but waited only a couple of seconds before he pulled on the door handle. To his surprise, and concern, it opened easily.

He shared a look with JJ. They both new Reid would _never _leave his door unlocked. It wasn't like him to be so careless. They entered slowly, their guns drawn, their hearts in their mouths.

The hallway before them was neat, shoes ordered neatly against the wall behind the door from most to least worn. Throughout the building stood numerous bookcases, each containing rows and rows of books, everything from thousand page novels to textbooks of such high complexity neither of the agents would have been able to understand a single word of had they picked one up.

"Spence? Spencer! Reid!" called JJ as she moved down the hallway. Her eyes darted from room to room, searching for any signs of danger. She was in a state of complete alertness, even the tiniest of noises catching her attention. Her hair whipped around her shoulders as she peered cautiously around every corner, half expected someone wielding a knife to jump out at her from the shadows at any moment.

Ahead of her, Morgan was yelling Reid's name at the top of his lungs, moving much more quickly. Caution was his last priority when his friends were in danger, Reid especially. He'd always seen him as a younger brother, someone to protect and look after. Right now his protective instincts had kicked into gear, overriding any protocol he was supposed to follow.

"Reid!" he yelled once again as he moved into the kitchen, JJ heading in the opposite direction towards the bedroom. Their guns remained high, fingers resting on their triggers just in case.

Morgan was circling around the table toward the adjoining room when he heard JJ's horrified gasp. He ran at full speed towards the sound, reluctant to find out what had caused it, but needing to know regardless. He realised he'd been holding his breath, and took in a deep gulp of air, readying himself for the worst.

As he approached, JJ stood frozen in the doorway of Reid's bedroom, staring down in alarm at the bloodstained carpet. Her eyes were wide, a hand covering her open mouth. Morgan had to peer over her shoulder to get a glimpse inside the room, as she seemed completely oblivious to the sound of his voice or the touch of his hand on her shoulder.

Morgan's reaction to their discovery was much more violent. After a moment of stunned silence, he slammed a fist against the door in frustration and worry, as well as anger at himself. After Reid had been kidnapped and tortured by Tobias, he'd sworn never to let anything similar happen to the most vulnerable member of their team again. Now that he was missing, and a puddle of blood was spattered across his bedroom floor, Morgan couldn't help but felt he'd somehow let his friend down, despite Hotch's advice to never to blame himself for things out of his control.

Finally JJ turned; seemingly awaken from her horrified trace by the loud chiming of her phone. Tears of dread and overwhelming panic welled up in her eyes, as she fumbled around for the phone in her pocket. With her hands shaking uncontrollably, it almost slipped from her grasp as she handed the phone to Morgan, unable to answer it herself.

"Hotch, you need to get here right now."


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys, thankyou so much for the reviews! I'm sorry it's taken me this long to update, I meant to sooner, but I've been really busy with school and so has my completely amazing beta Cliara Aedai. I just want to thank her again, because not only has she improved this story so so much, her assistance has improved pretty much everything I've been writing recently! **

**Anyway, finally the next chapter is here! So pretty please read, review and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds :(**

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_**Chapter 2**_

The remaining four members of the BAU stared in apprehension as Hotch held the phone to his ear. His stony face couldn't hide his reaction to Morgan's brief message, a flash of concern clear as it crossed his eyes. Even Garcia, the only person in the room without profiling skills, knew the news wasn't positive, and she felt her stomach drop with apprehension, and clasped Prentiss' arm beside her. Rossi kept eye contact with Hotch the entire time, trying to read his expression and determine exactly what was happening.

On the other end of the line, Morgan hung up seconds after speaking that single sentence; however Hotch kept the phone glued to his ear as he processed the troubling information in a state of shock. He ran though the words over and over in his mind, as though this would tell him exactly what was occurring kilometres away. After a couple of moments, he addressed the urgently expectant gazes of his team.

"What did they say?" Prentiss asked, eyes wide, dreading the answer but needing to hear it. Her theorizing was only increasing the list of possible situations in her minds, each more horrifying than the last.

"Just that we have to get there right now," Hotch recounted, hurrying past them through the tall glass door towards the elevator, Prentiss, Rossi and Garcia following close behind.

* * *

Hotch drove, lights flashing and siren blaring, as fast as was physically possible whilst avoiding a collision. Rossi sat beside him, eyes lowered to his shoes, unwilling to even consider what they might come across on arrival at Reid apartment. Morgan hadn't elaborated on the situation, simply urging them to hurry, so they were still unaware of exactly what they would be faced with when they arrived. In the back seat, Prentiss was equally apprehensive. She grasped Garcia's hand in an attempt to comfort her, though also to reassure herself. Even with everything she'd been through, nothing could compare to the fear she felt whenever her friends were in danger.

Garcia held her breath as they weaved in and out of the traffic around them at a ridiculous speed, exhaling only when they finally reached their destination - though even then her hands wouldn't stop jittering by her side.

They parked behind the car Morgan and JJ had travelled in, Hotch having to slam the brakes down hard in order to stop in time. Prentiss had the door open before the car had even come to a complete stop, running up the path the second she had the chance. Hotch, Rossi and Garcia were close behind.

The door was ajar when they finally reached it, and they hurried inside apprehensively. On entering the kitchen they found Morgan seated in one of the chairs around the kitchen table, his head resting on the palms of his hands. JJ was leaning against the wall, her eyes wet with tears, her hand still shaking from her alarming discovery. Garcia hurried over to comfort her, and they embrace, both crying into the others shoulder.

Hotch's attention was immediately drawn to the case at hand, and he led the way down the hall to Reid's bedroom, stopping in the doorway to examine the worrying crime scene before him. He was joined moments later by Rossi and Prentiss, who seemed equally distressed by the bloodstained floor. Whilst no tests had been conducted to confirm the blood was indeed the doctor's, there was no doubt in their minds that it was his. With no evidence of self-defence, it was clear to them he had been taken by surprise, attacked without warning with no time to reach for a weapon.

Morgan regained his composure enough to join the huddle in the doorway, and they stood together, peering into the room and imagining all the possible tortures their friend could possibly be enduring at that very moment. Prentiss shuddered at the very thought, and she shook her head to clear it. Whilst they were all used to the dangers that were involved with being an FBI agent, they would never get used to any of their team members being faced with such extreme danger. So far, on the few occasions when this fear had become a reality, they had managed to rescue their friends before it was too late. Though they knew some day they might not be so lucky. Each and every one of them was praying that this wouldn't be _that _day.

To make matters worse, they had absolutely no idea who could possibly be behind their friend's disappearance.

After a few moments, though, it was back down to business. They all knew worrying would do nothing to help Reid. Action was the only way they would possibly be able to assist him, wherever he was.

"Morgan, did you or JJ touch anything in here?" Hotch asked. Whilst he knew that in normal circumstances they would never have even entered the room without the blue examination gloves that protected the scene from contamination, these were certainly _not _normal circumstances. It was possible the horror they'd felt on discovering the blood scattered across Reid's carpet had prevented them from thinking clearly, possibly causing them to alter or damage any evidence inside without realising.

"No, we just stood in the doorway, we didn't even step inside the room," Morgan answered. He spoke calmly, the rage he had first felt having faded into a miserable state of listless worry. His immediate reaction had been one of violence and anger, though concern for his friend and guilt in himself for not preventing the current situation had sapped away his strength, leaving no room for infuriation. The one thing he did still have the strength for, however, was searching for the SOB responsible for Reid's kidnapping. At least a kidnapping was what he hoped for, since the alternative was much worse.

The four agents pulled on a pair of gloves each, then disbanded out across the room, searching for anything that might lead them to their colleague. Hotch bent low, examining closely the area surrounding the pool of blood. Crossing the room, Prentiss looked for anything out of place. This was made much easier by Reid's slight OCD, since with everything impossibly neat, equally spaced apart and ordered alphabetically; even the tiniest inaccuracy was easily spotted. Rossi remained at the door, running a gloved finger down the frame, scrutinising even the most minuscule of splinters out of place. Morgan checked the hallway outside, pacing back and forth in the hope a sudden realisation would come over him, and direct them to wherever Reid was.

Out in the kitchen, JJ had calmed down, having already called the Crime Scene Investigators. They needed to know whether the blood on the floor was indeed Reid's, as they all suspected, or his kidnapper's. They were also hopeful their unsub might have left fingerprints or DNA, _something_ that might lead them to him. _Anything._ After she was reassured by the deep voiced man on the other end that a team was on their way, she walked back across the room to Garcia, who was still shaken, and JJ remained to comfort her.

* * *

An hour later, the entire building had been inspected from top to bottom, with no luck. A sample of the blood had been sent off for testing, despite the lack of doubt in any of their minds that it was Reid's.

Once the investigators had left, the team seated themselves around the surprisingly large kitchen table, and began piecing together the scraps of information they'd uncovered.

"Okay, so first he picked the lock on the front door. I found marks around the keyhole that were definitely not made from a key," Morgan said, kicking off the discussion.

"He must have waited until Reid was distracted, because he would have noticed even the faintest noise," JJ contributed, knowing full well Reid's tendency to be slightly skittish and paranoid. "It's likely he hid behind the wall just here until Reid started walking down to his bedroom. He would have had his back turned, giving the unsub the opportunity to strike."

"Actually, I think he was already waiting for Reid when he entered the bedroom," Prentiss told them, and was met with expressions of interest. "The clothes in the wardrobe are crumpled somewhat, as though someone was leaning against them. I think the unsub hid there until Reid came into the room, then used something he found inside to hit him over the head."

"What makes you think that?" Hotch queried.

"The lamp on his bedside table closest to the wardrobe was not positioned as neatly as the one on the opposite side. Also, the shelves inside the wardrobe are filled with bits and pieces, with only one section empty. The space is only small, but I think whatever was there is what the unsub used to attack Reid. Taking into account the size of the space, it could be something tall and thin, like a spray can, or a bottle maybe?"

"His flashlight!" JJ gasped in realisation, and the entire team looked at her in confusion.

"Reid has a slight phobia of the dark! We were talking one day, and he said he didn't keep a flashlight right beside his bed because he was trying to overcome his fear. He'd unplug his side lamps at night as well, but always kept a flashlight close by just in case there was a blackout. That must have been what was on the shelf!"

"It makes sense," Rossi nodded in agreement. "A flashlight would certainly be strong enough draw blood."

"There's the big puddle of blood in the centre of the room, but next to it there's a faint bloody hand print. It think Reid was struck, fell to his knees, but was still conscious. He reached for his head, which was bleeding, before using that same hand to try and push himself upright. If that was the case, there must have been a second blow to knock him out or at the very least restrain him," Hotch said.

"You do think he's alive, don't you?" JJ asked, in search of reassurance. The room was suddenly plunged into silence as they all stared at Hotch, awaiting an answer.

"As always, we will assume he's alive until we have actually evidence suggesting otherwise," he informed them after a moments thought, though this did little to comfort them.

Garcia, who was seated at the table along with the rest of the team, covered her mouth with her hand. She hated the very _thought _of Reid getting hurt. Talking about it, or even considering worse, in detail was too much for her. Morgan noticed this, and hurriedly changed their line of conversation.

"Okay, so we know how he did all of this, but we don't know why," he pointed out. "He must have known Reid's routine fairly well to get from the front door all the way to his bedroom on the other side of the apartment."

"You think he was stalking him?" Garcia gasped. "I can check up on the places Reid visited recently, and see if there was anyone following him around."

"Good idea. It's either that or Reid knew him personally, which you could find out also," Hotch nodded. "We should get back to the FBI, there's nothing else we can do here."

* * *

_Reid felt his arm knocking against something hard as his body was jolted up and down. He groaned with pain, his whole body aching as though he hadn't moved for days. But by far the worst was the agonising burning sensation that crossed the side of his head, as though it were literally about to explode. _

_After lying completely still for a couple of moments, begging the intense throbbing of his head to end, he gathered up all his minimal strength to open his eyes. His eyelids felt as though they were glued shut, but finally he succeeded._

_He blinked to steady his blurring vision, and when it eventually settled down, he examined the small space he was currently held in, being careful to move his eyes only rather than his pulsating head. From the constant rocking and jolting combined with the area around him, he guessed he was in the back of a truck. Surrounding him stood cardboard boxes, piled high. The tiniest sliver of light entered the space though gaps around the corners of the rectangular shaped room, the walls made of plastic tarp flapping in the breeze. _

_He tried to move, realising his wrists and ankles were tied together with a thick rope. These restraints dug painfully into his skin as he struggled, unsuccessfully, to free himself. He tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but was overcome with dizziness, the world seeming to spin around him. Laying his head back down on his arms in defeat, he struggled simply to remain conscious. The pain and sheer exhaustion had drained him of all his strength and he found it a struggle just to breathe. _

_He was suddenly reminded of the last time he'd experienced such feelings. Tobias. The memory of that horrible trauma had never really passed, and he found that even now, years after the event, he was occasionally woken in the middle of the night, shaking and drenched in sweat, as his nightmares forced him to relive the terrifying experience all over again. Suddenly he felt a surge of terror overcome his weak, pain riddled body. He didn't know whether he could survive that suffering again. He didn't know whether he could stand such physical, and mental, torture for a second time. _

_The only reassurance he had was the hope that his team would find him before this masked man had a chance to attack him once again. They were the very best at what they did, and he had no doubt in their abilities whatsoever. He knew they would find him, he just hoped it wouldn't be too late when they finally did. _

_The strain of remaining awake gradually became harder and harder to bear. He breathed slowly, his lungs gasping for air, and his eyelids began to droop until they became so heavy he simply couldn't hold them open any longer. His thoughts roamed aimlessly as he finally gave in, closing his eyes and attempting to relax his aching limbs. His head still throbbed, and his minds conjured up warped images of past experiences. Just as he began drifting off, he imagined his friends in their desperate attempts to find him. This brought a smile to his lips, and he passed out feeling much less pessimistic, and slightly comforted by the thought they were searching for him._

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so I'm going on a holiday to America in a couple of days (SOOOO EXCITED!), so unfortunately I won't be able to update for a while. However, I promise I will update again as soon as I get back! **

**Thanks again for reading :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys****, I'm back :) I had an amazing time in America, it was awesome! And as an amazing bonus, the first episode of Criminal Minds aired ****while I was over there, an****d it was amazing! Unfortunately it takes Australia a _lot_ longer to air the episodes; we're only half way though Season 7 over here. Thankfully Youtube makes everything okay :)**

**Okay, so I want to thank Cliara Aedai _again, _because she is the best beta ever! Your tips have been so helpful :) Thanks heaps!**

**So here's the next chapter! I hope you're all enjoying it so far :) If you are, please review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds**

* * *

_**Chapter 3**_

Crowded inside Garcia's lair of technology, the team watched the wall of screens as she typed, her fingers flashing at tremendous speeds across the keys. The monitors surrounding them flickered with colour as windows appeared showing everything from lists of names, video surveillance footage and images of potential suspects.

She was digging through every occurrence of Reid's life over the past month, and this intrusion of her fellow colleague's privacy made her feel incredibly uncomfortable. It felt somehow as though she were trespassing, stalking his every move. However, she knew this intrusion could uncover vital information in their search, and that it would increase their likelihood of finding him unharmed. This knowledge, whilst justifying her actions easily, didn't prevent the uncomfortable feeling that came from invading his privacy that had latched itself onto her heart, causing a lump to form in the back of her throat. She swallowed, pushing the awkward sensation from her mind and turning her attention to the search.

"Okay, I've looked for every record of Reid's movements over the past month, excluding the days he's been interstate on cases with you guys. I've found receipts from a local supermarket, a café, a petrol station and some other smaller stores, plus video footage of him visiting the local library every couple of days. I've cross-check the names of other people who frequented the same places around the same time, but there aren't any matches. There's nothing," Garcia informed them with a sigh.

"Could you find out whether anyone's been hanging around his apartment?" Prentiss questioned, trying to think of _anything_ that might narrow down their search.

"That's really hard to do, since there aren't any cameras in the area," Garcia said with a heavy heart, feeling somewhat guilty despite the fact she had no control over the existence of such evidence.

"What about workers in the area?" Hotch suggested. "They wouldn't seem out of place, and still be able to get an idea of Reid's movements."

"I'm just searching now," Garcia informed as she typed rapidly, her bright pink nails clicking against the keys as she went. "Here, there are fifteen workers in the immediate vicinity of Reid's apartment. Five are construction workers, another five are renovating a nearby property, two are installing a pool, one is a plumber, one is a painter and one works for a removalist company."

"Wait, a removalist?" JJ asked. She received looks of confusing and expectance. "A removalist would be moving boxes from the house to a truck. What if he used that truck to take Reid?"

Garcia double clicked on the name, bringing up a page that contained much more detail. Her eyes skimmed down the page quickly, though the information she took in caused her to gasp.

"For the past couple of days he's been moving furniture from the apartment two doors down from Reid's! His name is Michael Hughes," she read, and seconds later his picture appeared on the screen. "He's thirty-five, lives alone and has no immediate family."

The picture showed a well-built man, dark brown hair ruffled and reaching just above his broad shoulders. He seemed like a quiet type, an awkward, self-conscious smile spread across his face, his brown eyes peering towards the ground through the rounded glass that covered most of his face. The picture seemed to be taken in a museum, an Egyptian exhibition visible in the background.

"So he is a really smart kid by the looks of these records," Garcia mumbled as she typed. "He seems to be really interested in ancient Egypt, the pyramids, mummies, that sort of thing. He's written a couple of articles that have appeared in a history magazine, and is an antiques dealer as well as a removalist."

"He does seem like a plausible suspect," Hotch agreed. Usually he would require more of a lead than the fact the guy drove a truck and was working a couple of doors down from their victim, however since the victim was Reid, he was willing to follow down any information they had, regardless of its insignificance.

"What's his address?" he asked, eager to at least check the property for any signs of their friend.

By the time he'd finished asking, Garcia already had a map of the area on the screen, pinpointing the exact location of their suspect's house. The image showed a relatively large block, with a barn in addition to the dwelling, which was fairly large in itself.

"Okay, he lives at 16 Graham Court. It's about an hours drive from Reid's place," she told them, though they were already out the door and on their way before she'd even finished speaking. She followed them, laptop in hand, reluctant to remain safely behind whilst her team headed into danger and Reid was still unaccounted for. Nothing Hotch, Morgan, or anyone, could say would change her mind on the matter.

* * *

The journey had been one of impatience, everyone urgent to reach their destination in the hope Reid would be there. When they finally arrived more than an hour later, the heavy traffic having delayed them significantly, they were all fidgety and restless. Garcia remained in the car, typing away on her laptop, whilst the rest of the team exited the vehicle. Outside, they stood together as Hotch explained how they'd be going about the search of the property.

Morgan and Prentiss were paired together to check the barn, whilst Rossi, JJ and Hotch took the house itself. They pulled on their bulletproof vests, drew the guns from their holsters, and moved towards their designated positions. Despite the limited information, and no knowledge whatsoever that Hughes was armed or dangerous, Hotch decided the safety precautions were worth a shot. They were already one man down; they couldn't afford another member missing, especially given the fragile state the whole team were in. He knew full well they were all much too close to the case than was wise. Any of them could act spontaneously out of character in the hope of saving Reid, putting themselves in danger. However he also knew nothing he could say would deter the team from searching for their friend, himself included.

Following a gravel pathway that weaved from side to side through patches of tall grass, Morgan led the way towards the barn. It seemed quite well kept, paint pealing in places, but otherwise neat and maintained. He and Prentiss reached the large white doors, so bright they must have been painted just days prior. Morgan reached for the handle, Prentiss pointing her gun towards the opening as he swung the door cautiously ajar.

Inside, cardboard boxes were piled high, taking up the majority of the large space before them. They walked tentatively, their weapons raised as they moved between the rows, calling 'clear' as they excluded each of concealing Michael Hughes. Boxes piled three or four high restricted their view of the room, though in a couple of minutes they concluded there was nobody present but themselves.

"What's in all of these boxes?" Prentiss asked as she tried to heave open the heavy lid of one carefully, as though she expected something to jump out at her from inside at any moment.

Morgan took advantage of her skittishness, jumping out from behind the box and placing a hand on her shoulder. She jerked in surprise, dropping the lid with a thump and nearly jumping in the air with shock.

"Morgan!" she gasped, grumbling at him whilst pushing him playfully in retaliation as he laughed hysterically.

"You are so easy to scare," he chuckled, lifting the heavy lid with ease and peering inside. A gasp escaped his lips, and he stepped back to allow Prentiss a look.

The box contained piles of ancient Egyptian relics, the gold glittering even in such minimal light. There were medallions, jewellery and ornaments, all covered in layers of gold and precious jewels. Whether they were replicas or the genuine item, they would likely be worth thousands of dollars, if not more. Flipping open the lids of nearby boxes, they discovered these too contained expensive Egyptian artefacts.

"Wow," Prentiss exclaimed, in awe of the beautiful objects. "This guy is either incredibly rich, an amazing dealer of ancient antiquities or a very good thief."

"I'd guess all three," Morgan said, as he examined a rounded shaped medallion covered in engravings. "I think this is real, there's no sign of a machine being used to create it, and this definitely isn't just gold paint. It's genuine."

"What would this guy want with Reid though?" Prentiss asked, completely perplexed. "There's no doubt he targeted Reid specifically, he probably stalked him for weeks prior to taking him. But why Reid? Do you reckon he found out about his secret treasure stash?"

"I don't think so. It could have just been convenience," Morgan suggested. "He was working a couple of doors away, maybe Reid just seemed like the easiest target. You have to admit, he doesn't seem like the toughest guy around."

"True, but if this guys really is a thief, he must be really organised. He doesn't have a record or Garcia would have found it, so he must be very efficient. I don't think he would have just chosen someone randomly. Everything would have been pre-planned."

Morgan's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out hurriedly in case the others had found something inside the house. He was surprise when the caller ID showed Garcia's photo.

"Hey baby girl, what's up?" he asked, though he didn't seem as relaxed and jovial as usual, just drained. Reid's disappearance had taken its toll on him.

"I just got a call from the lab. Good news and bad news. The blood on the carpet was Reid's, though there wasn't enough to suggest serious blood loss. So he's probably still alive."

"Okay, well I guess that is good news. Thanks girl," Morgan replied in an attempt to stay positive. Though to be honest the only thing that would really make him feel better would be finding Reid safe and well. For the moment, however, the slight hope that he was still alive was all they had.

He hung up, relaying the news to Prentiss as he returned the phone to his pocket. They checked around the barn for any signs Reid had been there, though with no luck. With nothing else to do, they returned outside to Garcia, who was still sitting in the SUV tapping away on her laptop.

* * *

Hotch and JJ took the front entrance of the house, while Rossi headed around the back. On trying the handle, they discovered both doors were locked. When nobody answered the bells or the loud rapping on the door, they decided forced entry was their only option. JJ counted down from three over the radio, and when she called 'go', Hotch and Rossi simultaneously slammed their shoulders against the two doors, sending them crashing open.

"Hughes, this is the FBI," Hotch called as he entered the hallway, his gun drawn, JJ right behind him. Across the house, Rossi's actions mirrored theirs, as he checked room after room for signs of the house's occupant.

They met up in the lounge room feeling disappointed, neither having found the man they were looking for, let alone Reid. JJ hurried outside to inform Morgan, Prentiss and Garcia of their discovery, or lack there of, and they too joined the group inside the house.

After they were updated on the contents of the barn, as well as the news Garcia had received from the lab, they each set about searching the dwelling for further clues as to whether this man was their unsub. Garcia positioned her laptop on the glass coffee table; seating herself on the couch and continuing her own scavenge; through cyberspace.

Morgan took the bedroom, following the long corridor towards the far side of the building. It was a simple room, with a double bed positioned in the centre, a cupboard and chest of drawers against the wall on his right, a bookcase opposite, and little else. He first rummaged through the chest of drawers, finding nothing but socks, underwear and an assortment of small objects including coins, handwritten reminders and a couple of pens. These items were of little use to the investigation, so he moved across the room to the large wooden bookcase. It was piled high, containing huge history textbooks that were so heavy he could barely lower them from the shelves. However, he somehow managed to pull them down one by one, flicking briefly though the pages and wishing Reid, along his ability to read at such a rapid pace, was present.

A couple of doors down, Hotch was scanning every inch of the tiny bathroom for information. The mirrored medicine cabinet had revealed Michael Hughes had issues with sleeping, but nothing further. The storage space beneath the basin held only shampoo, a tooth brush and a tube of mint flavoured toothpaste. Since the remainder of the room contained only a small bath tub, a shower and a toilet, Hotch joined Prentiss in her search of the lounge room, which was located at the centre of the house.

This room too contained very little furniture. Simply an old worn couch, in the centre of the room, on which Garcia was seated, a small coffee table, a cabinet with an old TV set resting on it against one wall, and yet another bookshelf beneath the window at the back of the room. Prentiss ran her fingers across the dusty spines of the glossy historical magazines, searching for anything that might be even marginally useful. Checking the cabinet, Hotch found a collection of beautiful ancient Egyptian relics, though nothing that offered any insight into Hughes' day to day life.

Having finished their searches, Rossi, Morgan, and JJ all ended up in the cramped lounge room, beginning their discussion on the limited facts they had discovered.

"The bedroom has hardly any personal touches, just thousands of history books. There isn't really anything I can tell for sure, except that the guy is obsessed with ancient Egypt," Morgan told them, a hint of angry disappointment in his tone.

"It was a similar story in the kitchen," Rossi said. "Just the basic everyday essentials, plus the odd Egyptian ornament."

"Same with the backyard, nothing but what you'd expect; a shovel, a hose; that sort of thing," JJ sighed.

During this discussion Garcia had continued typing away on her laptop, and a sudden gasp escaped her lips as she stared in shock at the screen. The team turned sharply towards her, startled slightly by the noise.

"What is it?" Prentiss asked from where she was still standing beside the bookcase.

"I think I've found the link between Michael Hughes and Reid! Is there a magazine in that shelf called 'Mummification'?"

"Um…" Prentiss muttered to herself as she scanned down the rows of magazines. "Ah, here it is," she said, pulling it out from its place. It was clear to them all that it had been read recently, since its spine lacked the dust that coated its neighbours.

"Michael Hughes wrote an article for that particular issue, something about the process of mummification. But guess who else wrote an article on page eight?" Garcia's voice rose a couple of octaves as she spoke, excited to have finally found something relevant to the investigation.

Prentiss flicked the pages hurriedly with her thumb, and a stunned silence engulfed the room as page eight fell open before them. Atop a lengthy article explaining the evolution of mummification was a single name.

'Spencer Reid'.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thankyou all so much for the reviews and favourites and everything, you guys actually make my day :) **

**This next chapter may be a little... well, my beta Cliara Aedai says I'm twisted (thanks again by the way, your betaing is amazing!). Which I'm not! However, this story calls for a slightly twisted unsub. Don't worry, I've tried not to be too graphic, I just thought I'd warn you in advance. Although I suppose if you watch Criminal Minds in the first place you'd be kinda used to that sort of thing by now... **

**Anyway, I'm so grateful you're even reading this, thanks heaps! I might not be able to update quite as regularly in the next few weeks because I have exams coming up, and then work experience, but then it's school holidays and I'm free! So please continue to review, because your comments definitely motivate me to write!**

**Thanks again :)**

**Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own Criminal Minds**

* * *

_**Chapter 4**_

They regrouped back at headquarters, leaving a number of local cops at the property should Hughes return. The team sat at the rounded table, a new energy present in the room, brought about by the link they had just discovered between their prime suspect and Reid. However the tension that had been so evident over the past few hours still lingered, since their concern for Reid could never completely lift until he was with them, safe and sound.

"It can't be a coincidence that an article written by Reid is in the same issue as one written by Hughes," Rossi said, and received nods of agreement all around.

"Since when was Pretty Boy interested in Ancient Egypt?" Morgan asked, interested but also slightly surprised. They all knew Reid's intelligence levels were far above their own, however they'd never really considered his specific interests.

"How long ago was the magazine published?" Hotch questioned, looking over at Prentiss, who still had it clasped in her hands as though it were something sacred. She knew that the connection it held between Reid and their suspect was a significant step towards confirming Hughes was, indeed, their unsub, and once that was determined they would be much closer to finding their friend.

"Only a couple of months ago," she told him after scanning the cover for the necessary information.

"So, why would this guy target someone because they were published in the same magazine as him?" Rossi wondered aloud. "Jealously perhaps; to prove something?"

"Oh my god!" Garcia gasped. She had been typing away at her laptop throughout their discussion, and suddenly stared at the screen in astonishment. "So I cross-checked the names of everyone on the magazine to try and find some sort of motive somehow, anyway, two of the other people who wrote articles for that same issue are missing." She spoke quickly, clearly scared that what she had found was _not _good news.

The team all sat in stunned silence. When nobody spoke, Garcia continued reading the information from her screen. "Jeremy Henderson wrote an article on the Ancient Egyptian people's spiritual connection to mummification on page twelve; he went missing two weeks ago. Then on page twenty, Glenn Holland wrote about the mummification of King Tut. He disappeared five days ago."

"Presuming they're connected, which seems pretty likely, the kidnappings are getting closer and closer together. He's escalating," JJ pointed out, with a slight tremor in her voice. Escalation was the last thing they wanted to hear.

"Let's say this is the same guy. We should look at victimology," Hotch suggested. "Garcia, can you find us some information on the two men?"

"Already got it," she smiled. "Henderson was a sixty-five year old retired university professor of history. No immediate family. Glenn Holland was forty, father of two teenagers, worked as a journalist, with a special interest in Ancient Egypt."

"All three of the, ah, victims were incredibly different," Morgan said, uncomfortable with calling Reid a 'victim'.

"There is one thing they have in common," Prentiss began somewhat cautiously, feeling the connection she had picked up from Garcia's research was far from good news. "All three articles were written about mummification, in the mummification edition of the magazine."

The silence that followed was excruciating as each of them ran over the possible implications of this link, none of which reassured them in any way.

"He has to be mummifying them," Rossi said, speaking aloud the conclusion they had all reached, though his brow furrowed in worry. "But it's not just the mummification. He wants appreciation for what he's doing, so he only chooses people with a detailed understanding of the practice."

"But for them to appreciate it they'd need to be alive," JJ realised, and then her eyes widened. "He's doing it while they're still alive."

Morgan felt sick to his stomach, and he lent forward, his face in his hands. He was hoping Reid was some sort of hostage, kidnapped solely for the purpose of tormenting their team, or for some sort of ransom. This new evidence, and the theories that came with them, terrified him. Reid was like a younger brother, and if anything happened to him, he didn't know whether he'd be able to deal with it.

At her laptop, Garcia too looked horrified. She was continuing to search for anything to keep her mind off the possible torture Reid could at that very moment be enduring, though what she found only intensified her fears.

"Um," she spoke softly, tapping Hotch on the shoulder. She motioned at the screen, wanting him to read the information it held, simply unable to hear anything more. Once it was clear he had understood, she stood quickly and hurried out of the room. Morgan was tempted to follow, though the knowledge that whatever she had found could help find Reid kept him glued to his seat, listening intently.

Hotch scanned the screen, and then turned to his colleagues. "According to this site, mummification first requires the liver, lung, stomach intestines and brain to be removed. I know that sounds like bad news for Reid, but I doubt that our unsub would start immediately. It's likely he'd explain his intentions; after all, the whole reason he chose Reid was for his appreciation. Also, here it says the body is then covered in salt for 40 days. That means he still has the bodies of his other two victims with him, presuming they're dead. Which seems likely, I doubt this unsub would keep them alive for more than a couple of days."

"So he must be inside a deserted building, or somewhere very remote to be hiding two bodies, they would smell pretty bad by now. Unless mummification stops them from smelling. I have no idea. Plus he'd have to hide all the equipment needed to perform the mummification," Prentiss evaluated.

Garcia re-entered the room and returned to her laptop, after making sure the graphic conversation had ended. The search for deserted buildings and any other possible locations their unsub could be currently residing in took her a couple of seconds.

"There are about twenty in the general vicinity of Reid's apartment," she informed them, "ranging from disused factories to smaller barns. I've already excluded anything like stores and houses that are far too close to people to be able to hide the smell of… well. Can you narrow it down any further?"

"There's nothing else I can think of," Hotch said. "We'd better get going now; we might not have much time. We'll split up. Rossi, Morgan and JJ, take the first ten, Prentiss and I'll take the other ten."

"I just emailed the addresses to your tablets," Garcia added.

The room emptied suddenly, no one wanting to waste even a single moment. After all, a second could be the difference between them finding Reid alive, or dead.

* * *

_Reid regained consciousness slowly, his eyes remaining closed. He felt cool metal beneath him, a table of some sort, and realised he must have been moved from the truck, though how long ago he had no idea. Attempting to raise his arm, he found it restrained by a wide, cloth-like material. His legs too seemed to be strapped to the table on which he lay. _

_He opened his eyes, and found himself staring into a round light that let off a dim orange glow. As his eyes adjusted, he began to take in his surroundings. He was in a rectangular room with walls of concrete, a bench beside him holding strange tools. His head still ached, and its usually computer-like mind seemed delayed. After a moment he realised he recognised the tools, and a shiver ran down his spine. It was embalming equipment, used in the mummification process. _

_Turning his head to the opposite side of the room, he gasped at the horrifying sight before him. A cabinet that resembled a long, tall bookshelf was positioned there, and resting on the shelves were two human bodies. He saw they were in varying stages of mummification, and his stomach flipped. A wave of nausea overcame him as he realised exactly what was about to happen to him. _

_Beside the bodies were four carefully decorated jars, each with a different lid. He knew exactly what they were, though worse was the knowledge of what they contained. Being something of an expert on Ancient Egypt, he knew instantly that they were canopic jars, and that they held the organs of his departed companions. _

_He strained against the straps that held him with all the little strength he had, though they held fast. Panic began to set in, and his breathing quickened. He lifted his head, trying to break the strap across his chest. He twisted and turned, until suddenly the door across the room opened with a load creak that caused his heart to skip a beat in fear. _

* * *

Morgan drove, Rossi sat in the passenger, and JJ behind him, tablet in hand. She read out the location of their first stop, and Morgan set out immediately at lightning speed. They needed to find Reid as soon as possible, so with his sirens blaring, he raced through the traffic.

Their first stop was an empty warehouse that hadn't been used for what appeared to be decades. There were cobwebs draped across the door frame, and the wooden door contained large hollows were termites had gnawed their way through.

Walking up to the door, Morgan barely touched it when suddenly it crashed to the floor, splintering in half. A single glance inside and it was clear this was not the property Reid was being held in. There wasn't a single piece of furniture, just a bare expanse covered in a thick layer of dust.

"Well, that's one down," Rossi said in an attempt at optimism JJ, however, looked close to tears. All through the day she had been trying to contain the sheer terror that had begun the moment she'd found the blood stain inside Reid apartment, though it was becoming more and more difficult to hide the despair she felt. The clues they had found so far had only made this feeling worse. The only consolation she had to hold onto was the possibility they would find him before it was too late. It was already getting dark, and they still had nine other locations to check. Returning to her seat, she pulled out the tablet and read out their next destination, swallowing hard to push the lump from her throat.

The next deserted building was an old factory that had once, many decades prior, been a successful car manufacturing plant. It had two levels, each piled high with old equipment and automotive parts. They pulled out flashlights, Morgan and JJ taking the first floor, Rossi the second.

This search took much longer than the previous, though its result was similarly disappointing; absolutely no signs of Reid, or any other recent inhabitation.

* * *

The first address on Hotch and Prentiss' list was an old brick building that had been used for many things over the years, most recently a gymnasium. It was now, however, almost completely overgrown with weeds.

They walked up to the door, guns at the ready, just in case. Hotch tried the handle, and it turned easily with a slight click. Entering slowly, Prentiss ran the palm of her hand along the wall until it brushed against a light switch.

Above them, the ancient light flickered on, illuminating the room with a soft glow. There was very minimal inside, some litter and the odd tennis ball. Definitely no Reid.

Climbing back into the SUV, they drove in silence to the next property on the list. They arrived at the disused shop several minutes later; though a single look at the place was enough to tell them everything they needed to know.

"Wow, what happened to this place," Prentiss said in surprise. The building before them was barely standing, the entire roof caved in. She couldn't believe the place hadn't fallen over completely, given the walls looked like they were seconds from collapse.

"We'd better check just in case," Hotch told her as he walked up to the wreck. There was virtually no chance Reid was inside, but he simply couldn't risk it. He would never be able to forgive himself if Reid was indeed inside and he hadn't even checked. Moving over to the side of the building, he peered through the rubble into the tiny space visible. The majority was taken up by loose plaster that had tumbled from the ceiling and the remainder by leaves, dirt and a squirrel.

"Nothing," Hotch called to Prentiss, and they returned to the search.

The next hour consisted of more driving, and more uneventful searching of property after property, everything from a deserted mental asylum to an indoor swimming pool. Yet still there was absolutely no sign of Reid.

"We only have three more addresses to go," Prentiss read from the list in her hand. Suddenly the phone in her pocket rang, and she pulled it out as quickly as she could, praying for good news.

"Prentiss," she said quickly.

"Hey, it's Morgan. We've been to all ten addresses and come up blank. Nothing," he sighed, clearly disappointed and frustrated.

"We only have three to go, you guys could come and help us finish them off," Prentiss suggested.

"Okay, we'll meet you at your next address," Morgan agreed, eager to do _something _to help find Reid.

* * *

_The door swung open, and Reid drew in a sharp breath of recognition. _

"_Michael?" he gasped, shocked. _

"_Hello Spencer," the man said with a crazed smirk. He walked towards the table Reid was strapped to, standing over him._

"_What are you doing?" Reid asked, eyes wide, completely stunned to find the removalist that had been working just two doors down from his apartment staring down at him. They had actually spoken, shared many a conversation over the past few days, and now he was tied to a table, unable to do anything to defend himself from the clearly crazed man whose face was centimetres from his own. _

"_Ah, you don't know Spencer? I thought you were a profiler. You tell _me_," he ordered with a disconcerting smile. _

_Reid remained completely silent, frozen with fear. He had a vague idea of what was going on, given his surroundings and the limited information he already knew about the man before him, but was unable to voice these thoughts. They were simply to horrifying to even consider. _

"_Well, I would be delighted to tell you every detail of my little hobby," he said in a tone that sent shivers down Reid's spine. "You may remember a few months ago writing an article for a magazine on Ancient Egypt. I too wrote an article for the very same issue, and so did your two friends over there," he explained, motioning to the two bodies. _

_As his brain worked overtime to process the information, it was also aching painfully from the injury he'd acquired earlier that day. He felt physically sick as Hughes continued his explanation. _

"_I'm very interested in the Ancient Egyptian way of life, though I couldn't understand it completely without experiencing some of their customs. The one that interested me the most was mummification. I started with small animals, cats mainly, since they were particularly important to the Ancient Egyptians. However, it just wasn't enough. So I moved onto humans. I chose only those who would truly appreciate my art, so I'm currently working my way through the mummification issue of my favourite magazine. I'm actually finding it quite an enjoyable experiment, and you, my friend, are my next privileged subject."_

_Reid swallowed, completely terrified. There was nothing he could do but watch as Hughes readied his equipment. _

"_Here I have perfect replicas of canopic jars, which will very soon contain your liver, lungs, stomach and intestines. But firstly..."_

_He reached across the table, selecting a long, thin piece of metal with a hook on the end. In his other hand he held a scalpel, its sharp edge glinting in the minimal light. _

"_Do you know what this is for?" he asked, waving the hook inches from his face. _

_Reid remained completely silent, staring at the object, eyes wide, unable to turn away. _

"_Nothing? Okay, I'll just have to tell you. I though you were smarter than that, genius boy. This lovely tools is to remove you brain through you nose, just as was done by the Egyptians so many years ago."_

_Reid knew he had very little time left, so in a last desperate attempt he jerked against the restraints that held him. Hughes was startled by the action, given Reid had remained perfectly still until that moment. The scalpel dropped from his grasp, and as it fell it severed part of the material that held Reid's upper body to the table. Reid took the opportunity, pulling with all his strength against what remained of the restraint. _

"_Stop, what are you doing?!" Hughes cried as the strap came free. Reid quickly struggled from the table; though standing upright made his head spin. He held onto the table for support, and Hughes lunged towards him. He blocked the punch with his arm, but the force knocked him to the ground. _

_Pulling himself up, Reid ran for the door. Hughes grabbed the nearest of the canopic jars and hurried after him. Reid's hand was just millimetres from the door handle when he was struck hard over the head with the jar, sending him tumbling to the floor, unconscious._


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, so firstly I am _so_ sorry it's taken me this long to update! Especially after leaving it on a cliff-hanger, I feel really bad! I've found this chapter the hardest by far to write, plus life's been pretty hectic lately! But here is the next chapter, finally, and I hope you enjoy it. Thanks so much to everyone, particularly those who've reviewed, your comments are amazing! **

**This chapter has taken me _so _long to write, and even now I'm not 100% happy with it… But I'd love to hear what you think! I'm predicting another two or three chapters, but I'm not entirely sure just yet. There may be more…**

**Thanks, and happy reading 3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds**

* * *

_**Chapter 5** _

The two SUVs pulled up at the property at almost exactly the same time, brakes screeching the speeding vehicles to an abrupt halt. The team of tense agents were outside in an instant, just in time to hear a loud crash echo from inside the dilapidated wooden building that had once, many years prior, been a successful seller of expensive wines.

Guns were drawn without hesitation, all five running to the door as fast as was physically possible, bullet proof vests already fastened - just in case. Morgan arrived first; kicking the door open so hard it fell from its rusted hinges, crashing to the floor. Hurrying inside one by one, they were surprised to find the entire room empty. Despite the dark, it was evidently devoid of any furniture, let alone human inhabitants. Flashlights promptly illuminated the shadowy space before them, though there was literally nothing but dust.

"Damn," Morgan growled under his breath, frustrated and concerned. They were about to dismiss the property completely when Rossi tripped, nearly falling flat on his face. He pulled himself upright quickly, then called the rest of the team over to the far right hand corner. On the ground in front of him, almost invisible behind a layer of dirt and dust, was the rusted handle of a trapdoor.

Hotch and Rossi grasped it together, making eye contact with each other before heaving it open to reveal a wooden ladder that led to a long, narrow corridor. Morgan went down first, skipping half the rungs in his adrenalin fuelled urgency, followed closely by JJ, Prentiss, Hotch and finally Rossi. All five were unconsciously holding their breath, desperation clutching at their throats.

"It's an old wine cellar," Prentiss noted professionally, though her voice was riddled with apprehension, and even a tinge of fear as they followed the dark passageway. JJ ran her fingertips along the uneven walls, unable to think straight, simply allowing her legs to move her forward without any conscious thought. She was far too preoccupied with thoughts of what they might find at the end of this seemingly endless passageway, and very few of these thoughts were reassuring.

Finally they reached a door at the end. Morgan didn't even try the handle, instead slamming his shoulder as hard as he could into the wooden panels, sending the door swinging open with a sharp 'thud'. There, lying on the floor directly before them, lay Reid. His eyes were closed, blood gushing from the huge cut on the side of his head, smashed pieces of ceramic on the floor around him.

Morgan rushed inside without even a second hesitation, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of his friend lying unmoving on the dirt covered floor. His heart in his mouth, he practically fell to the floor beside Reid, holding a hand to his bleeding temple.

"Medic, we need a medic NOW!" he literally screamed into the radio attached to his vest.

JJ grabbed a piece of cloth lying on a small wooden table top nearby, rolling it up and handing it to Morgan, who pressing it against Reid's head to stem the rapid flow of blood. She had to swallow hard to prevent tears cascading down her cheeks, and her stomach was beginning to churn. She felt suddenly overwhelmed by nausea, her head spinning. Her hands shook uncontrollably as they check her friend for a pulse, and whilst the faint throb beneath her fingertips was reassuring, it did little to rid of the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She just managed to hold herself together, however, unwilling to leave Reid's side.

Hotch joined them, his typically serious face overcome with startled concern that was impossible to hide. It took a moment for him to regain his composure, and this was only because the rest of the team were present and, as their leader, he had to remain calm and in control. Had he been alone he would have been a mess, since he had an almost father-like relationship with Reid, and felt somehow responsible for even the tiniest pain he was forced to endure. However, his feelings were still identifiable in his eye, which always gave his true emotions away. How anyone could possible hurt the man who lay before him, so kind and incapable of harming another, was completely beyond him, and the very thought filled him with anger. The sick SOB who was responsible for this would pay dearly for his actions; Hotch would make sure of that.

Prentiss couldn't hold back a gasp when she entered, her hand across he mouth in shock. She remained completely motionless in the doorway for almost a minute, taking in everything that was happening in what seemed like a blur before her eyes. Since Morgan, JJ and Hotch were already with Reid, she decided - once she could think straight - that she would be most useful investigating the small concrete room that currently surrounded them, rather than merely crowding around Reid, even though this was her immediate instinct.

Rossi was the last to enter, so before him was simply a mass of horrified chaos. Despite his many years of experience as a profiler, he would _never _become accustomed to the danger they each faced just by showing up to work everyday, especially in situations like this one. He always became so close to the people he worked with, and the thought of them being injured, or worse, was something he simply couldn't bear. His eyes were drawn immediately to Reid, of course, but then to the very back corner of the room, where a slight movement caught his attention. He frowned, walking hurriedly around the metal table in the centre of the room, and was startled to notice an old decaying door creaking back and forth.

"Guys, Hughes _just _ran out here," Rossi yelled in startled realisation. Morgan sprang to his feet, and with a sudden jolt of adrenalin sprinted out of the room at an astonishing speed in a desperate attempt to catch the SOB who'd attacked his friend. They all watched him leave; praying for him to be successful, but then turned their attention instantaneously back to their injured friend.

"He's unconscious, but he's breathing" Hotch said, worried but at least relived Reid was alive. He tried to remain expressionless so as not to alarm the team, though it wasn't easy given just how serious Reid's injury appeared. The sooner the medics arrived the better, as long as it wasn't already too late.

Whilst Hotch and JJ were with Reid, Prentiss scanned the room. This was _her_ was of holding herself together, keeping distracted and on task.

"I think I found those two writers from that magazine that went missing," she told them, her voice wavering slightly, clearly disturbed, her eyebrows raised in horror at the two bodies half wrapped in bandages. The sight was truly hideous, though her horror she felt was brought about entirely by the knowledge that, had they been much later, Reid could have been amongst them.

"Look at all this," Rossi exclaimed, examining the traditional mummification tools that were scattered throughout the room. "Where did he get it all?" He too was using the distraction technique, though succeeded in hiding his emotions much more effectively than Prentiss. Granted he'd had many more years of practice.

"Some of it looks hand made," Prentiss said, examining the hooked tool more closely and discovering faint dents in the metal, most likely from the equipment Hughes had used to shape the menacing object.

"I'd better go upstairs and wait for the medic, he might not find us down here," Rossi decided aloud, hurrying out the door and into the passageway once again, desperate to hurry the medics' arrival in the only way he could, but also to be alone for just a moment in order to re-gather his overwhelming emotions.

Prentiss knelt beside Hotch and JJ, examining Reid's injuries, unable to investigate elsewhere any longer.

"We got here just in time, by the looks of things, he's already lost a lot of blood," she guessed from the puddle of blood beside Reid's head. "But apart from the head injuries, he seems not too bad considering." These reassuring words were for herself just as much as her companions, as though voicing them would make them somehow magically true.

"Looks like Reid managed to break through the restraints that held him to that table," Hotch said, looking towards the metal surface a few metres away, where the strips of material still hung, completely ripped in two. "If he hadn't managed to break through we might have been too late."

JJ shivered, tears filling her eyes, horrified at just how close Reid had come to being killed. And he still wasn't out of the woods yet. They had no idea how bad his head injury might be, and he had already lost a _lot_ of blood. She knew Prentiss, Rossi and Hotch were acting relaxed to cover up the fear and worry they were feeling, though she was finding it much more difficult to remain calm.

Suddenly the door across the other end of the room slammed open, smashing against its adjoining wall, and Morgan entered. He looked frustrated, even angry, as he stormed across the room, his footsteps thumping loudly against the ground.

"He got away," he practically spat, smashing his fist against the closest wall so hard his fingers ached. And yet he didn't care, with Reid barely alive and his attacker nowhere to be seen.

"Morgan, we_ will_ catch him," Hotch reassured him. "We know who he is; it's only a matter of time before we find him."

This seemed to calm him down somewhat, though it was little comfort given Reid's kidnapper was still out there, possibly already stalking his next victim. It was clear the guy was smart, they just had to hope he wasn't smart enough to evade arrest, or worse, escape the country completely.

The whoop of sirens were just audible above the small basement room, and moments later Rossi returned with two medics via the back door, since it was much easier to carry equipment through than the ladder and passage entrance. The pair carried a stretcher between them, amongst other equipment, and set to work quickly and professionally..

JJ, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan and Prentiss stood back reluctantly to allow them the space they needed to load Reid onto the stretcher, and tried to remain positive despite the danger their friend was still facing, and the fact his attacker continued to roamed free.

* * *

The drive to the hospital had been tense, with no one in either vehicle uttering a single word, too preoccupied with their individual worries for Reid. Exhaustion was also beginning to set in, since it was nearly eleven at night and they'd been working urgently for the majority of the day. This mixed with anticipation and concern left the agents with nothing to say, sending them into an eerie silence. Hotch had called Garcia bringing her up to date with what had happened, and she met them there.

All six of them sat impatiently in the waiting room, each desperate to know how Reid was holding up. Hotch stood straight and tall in the centre of the room, his apprehension unidentifiable except for the constant tapping of his right foot, and the concern detectable deep within his eyes. Rossi, too, seemed much calmer than he truly felt, though his darting eyes and pursed lips gave him away.

The younger members of the team, however, weren't even attempting to hide their fear. JJ's hands were clasped together tightly, her head rested against the fist they formed, eyes closed. Her cheeks were still wet with the tears that hadn't completely stopped until they had entered this very room, and which threatened to return at any given moment. Prentiss held her hand close to her face, unable to restrain herself from her nervous habit; nail-biting. She held Garcia's hand with the other to reassure her. There was nothing else to do but wait, with no amount of distraction able pry their thoughts from Reid, and whether he was even still breathing.

Morgan simply couldn't sit still. He paced the length of the room, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, over and over again. All the while he muttered inaudible mumblings under his breath, a mixture of curse words, thoughts and prayers. He had tried to clear his mind of negative thoughts, though this proved to be a challenge given the circumstances.

After waiting what felt like hours, the set of doors on the far side of the room swung open, and a doctor entered. He was dressed entirely in white, clipboard in hand, an unreadable expression on his aging face. The typical doctor.

"Hello, my name's Dr Holland. Are you friends of Spencer Reid?" he asked. After receiving eager nods, he got straight to the point. "He experienced a serious gash to the head, and as a result lost a fair amount of blood. However, it seems you arrived just in time to prevent him needing a transfusion. He needed a number of stitches, but should recover well enough. He's very lucky."

"So he's okay?" Prentiss clarified, desperate to hear it straight out.

"Yes, he should be fine. However, the blow to the head has resulted in temporary post-traumatic amnesia. We're not sure how long it will last, but just give it time and his memory should return."

"So he can't remember anything?" Rossi asked, allowing himself to relax slightly with the news that Reid would definitely recover, though not completely given this new, slightly unnerving development.

"It seems to be only his personal memories that have been affected. He doesn't really know who he is, and it's unlikely he'll recognise any of you either. However, his practical knowledge, as well as facts and figures, seems to be intact. Apparently research suggests doctors who spend at least three hours a week playing video games make about 37% fewer mistakes in laparoscopic surgery than surgeons who didn't play video games."

This brought smiles to their faces for the first time that day, though they were strained to say the least.

"He's probably still conscious now if you want to go and see him," Dr Holland told them, leading the way through the swinging doors and down a stark white corridor. The team followed in silence, Morgan nearly stepping on the back of the doctor's shoes in his haste.

"Here it is," Dr Holland announced, holding the door open for them to step inside.

They crowded into the small room, all unable to take their eyes off the figure lying on the bed before them. He had a large bandage wrapped around his head, pulling back his messy, blood-soaked hair from his forehead. His pale face seemed calm, relaxed, and his eyes were closed as though he were merely sleeping. Tucked beneath the white sheets he seemed so fragile and weak, his thin arms resting at his sides, chest moving slowly up and down.

"Reid?" JJ called softly, placing a hand on his arm. He seemed to twitch at the touch, and his eyes opened gradually. He blinked, clearing his blurry vision, and then scanned the roomful of people before him. Not even a hint of recognition was detectable in his gaze.

"Hello," he greeted them somewhat awkwardly. His eyes darted between them, startled and nervous. He also seemed somewhat stressed, almost fearful. He was completely unaware of what had happened to place him in a hospital, and his loss of memory seemed to unsettle him significantly. Once he'd eventually established the people before him were of no immediate threat, he then turned his attention to the room that surrounded him. Beeping machines, spotless white walls and very little else.

"Reid, how are you feeling?" Morgan asked. For a moment Reid didn't seem to register his voice, or that the question was even directed at him, though when he notice everyone's eyes were rested expectantly upon him, awaiting a response, his own eyes widen.

"Oh, are you talking to me?" he asked quietly, clearly intimidated by the large crowd of people. He had always been uncomfortable around people he didn't know, and since now his memories of the BAU were temporarily erased, the concerned friends surrounding were nothing more than strangers to him. Strangers observing him whilst he was completely unable to even sit upright. It was a rather compromising, uncomfortable position to be in, even for someone not as naturally shy and self-conscious as Reid

"I can't seem to remember who I am, or _where_ I am," he stammered quietly, almost embarrassed by his lack of understanding. "Presumably I have post-traumatic amnesia, likely caused by a hard blow to the head, though I can't actually remember…"

"Yes Reid, you do," Rossi told him with a smirk, amused slightly by the fact their resident genius could still diagnose himself and yet couldn't recall his own name.

"How much do you remember?" Hotch queried, the slightest hint of worry in his eyes. Of course he knew the amnesia was only temporary, though how long it would last was impossible to tell, and the uncertainty was disconcerting.

"The average person falls asleep in seven minutes, the most common name in the world is Mohammad, duelling is legal in Paraguay as long as both parties are registered blood donors, there are 293 ways to make change for a dollar, Montana has three times as many cows as it does people, Thomas Edison was afraid of the dark, the Earth weighs around 6,588,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 tons..."

"I mean about yourself, you know, personal things. Do you remember anything about _you_?" Hotch clarified with an almost undetectable sigh the second he could slip a word between Reid's seemingly endless spurts of useless facts.

"Oh, right… Sorry. Not really, no," he mumbled after a moments thought. He seemed to be gradually adjusting to the situation, becoming less nervous and shy, though he was still far from the Reid they were used to.

"Okay," Prentiss sighed, unsure where to begin. "Well, your name's Spencer Reid, you work for the FBI as a profiler, and we're your colleagues. I'm Emily Prentiss."

They went around their tight knit group, each feeling somewhat awkward as they introduced themselves to a friend they'd all known for many years. Reid sat silently, taking in the information and trying to get his head around the strange situation he currently found himself in. All the knowledge in the world wouldn't make his memory return any faster, that would take only time and patience.

"So I've been hit on the head obviously, and the fact that you're all here no doubt means this is part of the current case we're working on. From your jumpy, agitated behaviour it's pretty clear the man behind this is still on the loose," he analysed.

"Yes, the man who kidnapped you is Michael Hughes. He has a passion for Ancient Egypt, and as part of his 'research' he has been kidnapping people and mummifying them. We think it started out as an experiment, but believe it's now escalated to a hobby of sorts. He enjoys it, and won't stop until he's caught," Hotch summarized what they had established so far.

"Until now he's been targeting people with knowledge of mummification, since they will understand and, in his mind, appreciate what he's doing as research or some sick form of art," Rossi added.

"He probably won't continue with a similar victimology for much longer, since the enjoyment of the act will likely override his need for victims who understand exactly what he's doing," Reid guessed. "And as he escalates further, he may even lose interest in the mummification process altogether, and become absorbed only in the actual act of killing. He's sadistic. He enjoys the fear, and then the pain of his victims as he forces them to die slowly, with complete understanding of what is to come."

The team were thankful Reid had memory enough to assist them in the case, since his insight into Ancient Egyptian practises, as well as virtually anything else, could prove particularly helpful in their current case. Though all they really wanted was their friend back, _completely _back, his memory included. Only then would they be able to breathe that long-awaited sigh of relief.

* * *

Hours later, at midmorning the next day, the team regrouped around the circular table. Sleep and showers had refreshed them, and with Reid released from the hospital, their investigation could continue uninterrupted.

"So all we need to do now is find Michael Hughes," Reid said, fiddling with the bandage that wrapped itself around his head whilst his injury healed. His confidence was gradually returning as he regained his comfort around the team, though he was still somewhat cautious, and this was evident in his voice, which was still much quieter than usual.

"That might prove more difficult than first expected," Garcia piped up from behind the screen of her laptop. "I've been searching for any additional information on Michael Hughes, and I've discovered why it's been so hard to find information on him. I couldn't even find a matching birth certificate. Turns out Hughes has a_ lot_ more to hide than we first thought."

"Really?" JJ asked, prompting her to continue.

"Well, it turns out Hughes' real name is actually Brandon Dunn, though he's used a number of different aliases over the years. He's made quite a decent living out of manipulating people, he's a con man. He's posed as investors and small banking companies, prays on a number of people and convinces them to trust him with their money, and then as soon as suspicion begins to arise he flees the area with a new appearance and identity. He's wanted for a number of fraud charges all over the country."

"Anything else? Anything violent?" Morgan queried, surprised that someone who so clearly enjoyed the fear and pain of others would have nothing in his file to suggest this.

"Evading arrest, drink driving and a couple of speeding tickets," Garcia read. "That's all."

"It is strange he has nothing violent in there," Prentiss noted, catching on to Rossi's train of thought. "Maybe he never experienced inflicting pain on others until his experiments with mummification. He started out purely for scientific purposes, but then discovered he enjoyed it. And maybe soon, as Reid said yesterday, he won't care about the mummification aspect of his MO. He'll start choosing his victims randomly, and instead of mummification he'll just try to inflict the maximum amount of pain on his victims. He'll start torturing them."

"We need to find him soon then, there's no way he'll stop killing unless he's caught," JJ realised.

"Did you know the ancient Egyptians weren't the first to perform mummifications? The first was a fishing tribe called the Chinchoros, who lived on what is now the north coast of Chile. They were embalming as early as 5000 BC," Reid told them.

"Hey, Pretty Boy, let me just remind you of something your amnesia has caused you to forget. You don't tell us random facts, you tell us stuff relevant to the case," Morgan said, rolling his eyes with a laugh. Reid didn't seem to realise he was joking, and looked slightly offended. He wasn't naturally a people person, and much of what he'd learned had been from personal experience, and was therefore lost along with his other memories. It all made him rather uncomfortable, not to mention his confusion at being referred to as 'Pretty Boy'.

"It's okay Reid, he was just kidding," Prentiss comforted, patting him on the back with a chuckle.

"Guys," Garcia gasped hesitantly, eyes glued to the laptop screen before her. "A Melissa Richards has just been reported missing. She wrote an article in the same magazine as the rest of the victims."

"That's quick; he must have found a new building to work in already," Hotch noted with a tone of surprise.

"And new equipment. His old stuff has been taken out of the building for evidence, and there are still officers there in case he goes back," JJ added.

"Maybe he already had an alternative location in case he was caught. He seems smart enough to have a secondary plan in place," Reid said. "It's probably another deserted building, and would likely be in close proximity to his previous hideout. I'd estimate he'll keep the girl until tomorrow at the most, but he'll also be particularly careful given he knows we're close to catching him. It's also possible he'll kill her as quickly as possible, just to be careful"

"But we've already checked all the deserted properties in the general area," Morgan said, sounded uncharacteristically defeated.

"No, we didn't. When we found Reid there were two more addresses on the list," Prentiss realised, her eyes wide. She pulled the scrunched list hurriedly from her pocket and flattened it out on the table in front of her. "Half of us can go to one, half to the other."

"We'd better hurry then, we might not have much time," Hotch told them, and they all rushed out of the room, unwilling to waste any further precious seconds.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so with the whole amnesia thing, I hope it's realistic and medically accurate, but I'm not sure… I did some research on it, but since I'm by no means a doctor, I can't be certain, so please overlook any inaccuracies!**

**Also, I had quite a lot of difficulty writing everyone's reactions to Reid's condition, including Reid himself, so I'm sorry if anyone (or everyone) seems too clichéd or OC...**

**I absolutely LOVE reading all your reviews, they make my day, so please press that little button and let me know what you think! It'll only take a minute! I am so grateful that _anyone _is reading this!**

**Thanks again :)**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone who's reading this :) **

**Again, I want to apologise for anything, particularly the medial stuff to do with Reid, that isn't accurate. I've tried my best, though virtually every website I looked at said something different... So please just ignore anything that's wrong!**

**Thanks heaps (again) to my amazing beta, Cliara Aedai, you're awesome :)**

**So please read and review! **

**Disclaimer: I'm still waiting to read a fanfic that says; 'actually, I do own Criminal Minds.' Sadly, I still don't :(**

* * *

_**Chapter 6**_

Rossi, Morgan and Prentiss took one location, Hotch, JJ and Reid the other. They set off simultaneously, sirens blaring as they sped through the morning's peak hour traffic. The sun glared down on them as they wove in and out of the sea of vehicles, desperate to reach their designated destinations before it was too late, and another innocent victim's life was lost.

In the first SUV, Morgan spun the steering wheel from left to right at ridiculous speeds, screeching around corner after corner. It didn't take long for smooth, well made asphalt roads to turn to the crunching gravel of more remote areas, and though he had to slow slightly in order to stay in control, he continued as fast as was physically possible.

Behind him, Rossi looked somewhat terrified by the speed, his knuckles beginning to go white as he clasped the assist handle tightly. His other hand rested on his knee, clenched into a fist. He pursed his lips together in an attempt to hide his worry, though Prentiss in the passenger seat saw through it immediately.

"Come on Rossi, you can't find speed all that bad, you've worked for the FBI for years now," she teased with a smirk. She had become used to Morgan's occasionally erratic driving style, and now found it exhilarating rather than terrifying.

"Yeah, well in my day the BAU didn't do high-speed police chases," he retaliated, though he began to relax slightly as he became more accustomed to the speed.

"Because the cars weren't fast enough back then?" Morgan asked with a chuckle. Rossi merely shook his head, unable to hide a smile.

As Morgan continued to hightail towards their address, they got back to business by discussing the case. They had been so eager to check the two remaining address and save the woman currently unaccounted for that the team as a whole hadn't had much time to go over the new developments, including Reid's lucky escape, the fraudster past of the Unsub and this most recent kidnapping.

"This guy, Hughes, or whatever his name really is, the Unsub, must have been thinking well in advance to pull off something like this. To have a secondary location as well as back up equipment to perform his mummifications, it's almost as though he expected to be caught," Rossi said.

"He's obviously intelligent; given the numerous articles he's written about Ancient Egypt, not to mention his past as a con man. It takes a lot of skill to pull those sorts of large-scale frauds off," Prentiss noted.

"Yes, that's true, but even the smartest of Unsubs don't tend to predict that their crime scenes will be discovered," Rossi continued sceptically. "In fact, the opposite is normally true. They're normally so reassured in their own intelligence that they write off discovery altogether, which is often what ends up getting them caught. They overestimate their own abilities. That's true even more so with con men."

"So you're saying there's some other reason the Unsub had a backup plan?" Morgan asked, intrigued.

Rossi pondered this question silently for a minute, a frown of concentration etched across his brow. The more he thought about it the more peculiar this man's actions seemed to be.

"I'm not sure. It doesn't seem likely that he'd assume he'd be discovered, the profile suggests he's very self-assured, arrogant even. But I can't see any other reason for this alternative location."

"Maybe he didn't have it all planned out as early as we're giving him credit for," Prentiss suggested. "I mean, it _is _possible he simply came across another deserted building after kidnapping this girl. Unlikely, but possible."

"True," Rossi nodded. "Maybe he found his old location after he kidnapped his first victim, and then simply continued to use it. Once it was compromised, he moved on. But again, it's not really likely."

"Unless…" Morgan began, though stopped, as though still uncertain.

"What is it?" Prentiss questioned, encouraging him to continue.

"It's just, Hughes - I mean - the Unsub seems to have watched his targets prior to kidnapping them. He was a removalist a couple of doors down from Reid, after all. That can't have been a coincidence."

"Yes," Rossi agreed, interested.

"Well if he was indeed stalking his victims, he would have had to know Reid worked for the FBI. And of he knew that, it's likely he would have assumed we would be on the case."

"So you think he kidnapped Reid deliberately because he worked for the FBI?" Prentiss clarified.

"Not exactly. What if he kidnapped Reid because of the original victimology - his connection to mummification - but realising that we, the FBI, would be on the case he came up with an alternative plan were we to find Reid in time."

"So that he could keep killing," Prentiss said with a nod.

Morgan's eyes suddenly flashed with realisation, and he pulled off the gravel track. Ignoring Morgan and Prentiss's confused expressions and insistent questions he pulled out his mobile. Once it was ringing he held it to his ears, and whilst waiting for the calls recipient to answer, he explained to them his thought process.

"Okay, so he knows Reid works for the FBI and he knows we'll be on the case," he began, suddenly talking much fast. "No doubt he'd have researched us and discovered our success rate. Even though he knows he's intelligent, he feels somewhat threatened and works out an alternative plan. Reid said it was likely his MO would change eventually and he'd kill for pleasure rather than scientific purposes."

Prentiss and Rossi both nodded that they followed so far.

"We always presumed this change hadn't occurred yet, since both Reid and now Melissa still fit the mummification victimology. But what if he continued choosing these victims to throw us off? He's certainly smart enough, he's a fraudster. Throwing people off track is his business."

"So you're saying that, rather than being overly self-confident with his intelligence he's actually far smarter than we've been giving him credit for?" Rossi asked, beginning to understand.

"Yes, exactly. So know he is actually killing merely for the pleasure of it, and is unlikely to stop. So when he kidnapped Reid he already had in place a plan that would not only back himself up were his location to be discovered, but also a plan that would simultaneously cause him pleasure because of the pain experienced by his victims, and also eradicate the only people standing between him and his pleasurable activity."

"Us?" Prentiss gasped, eyes wide. "His next victims are us?"

"Damn it, why is Hotch not picking up his cell?" Morgan cried, suddenly becoming frustrated, though this was primarily caused by his concern. Hotch _always _answered his phone. What was preventing him from doing so now?

"So the location we were headed to or the one Hotch, Reid and JJ are on the way to right now is a trap," Rossi confirmed with horror.

No answer was necessary, the three agents just staring at each other in shock.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the other vehicle, Hotch drove not quite as fast as Morgan, but not much slower either. Thankfully the traffic was lighter on their route, and they were quickly onto the more rural roads that would lead them to the address written upon the crinkled strip of paper JJ held tight between her fingertips.

She sat beside Hotch, fiddling with her necklace, Reid in the back seat as they sped towards, hopefully, their Unsub and his current victim.

"So Reid, is much of your memory beginning to return?" JJ asked, hoping the Reid they all knew and loved would return sooner rather than later. He had been so awkward since leaving the hospital; overly polite, easily distracted and oblivious to any kind of playful joke.

"Not really…" he replied with little emotion. He was gazing out the window, watching as houses, trees and the occasional cars zoomed past them. He still felt uncomfortable around everyone, since in his mind he'd only known them for less than one day, and there were so many things he didn't understand. The sooner his memory returned the better it would be for everyone involved.

"The doctor said it would return eventually, though he wasn't sure of exactly how long. He says it varies from person to person, and no doubt it would also depend on the severity of the injury," Hotch told them both.

They continued to drive in silence for a further 10 minutes, until they pulled of the main road onto a smaller gravel path. The address was a few miles down this long and winding, poorly built track. It was the only property for miles, their SUV surrounded by nothing but dirt, small bushes and trees.

As they drove closer and closer, the small building they were heading to became visible, silhouetted against the bright blue sky.

"Is that a light on inside," JJ asked, frowning slightly to try and make out the source of the yellowish glow. "This might be it, that's probably the Unsub."

Hotch eased off the accelerator, not wanting to alert the Unsub of their presence just yet as he eased the SUV up to the barn-like wooden structure. They were close enough now to see that JJ was right, and there was a light on inside, on the second floor. Hotch turned around to Reid, who passed bulletproof vests to him and JJ, then moved to pull on his own.

"Reid, you should stay in the car," Hotch suggested, though sternly enough to imply it was really a polite order.

"But Agent Hotchner, I'm fine. The hospital discharged me; I'm perfect well except for my loss of memory, which isn't really a physical injury anyway and therefore should not affect my performance…"

"Firstly, call me Hotch, that's what you normally do," Hotch cut in, smirking slightly at Reid's ridiculous politeness. "And secondly, I'm not negotiating this. You should really be resting, not out in the field. If you weren't so involved in this case I would have sent you straight home. You're waiting in the car, end of story."

With that, Hotch and JJ exited, fastening their vests and pulling their guns out. Together they walked slowly to the wooden steps, up to the front door. Hotch knocked three times, then waited for a response.

Back in the SUV, Reid watched with a bored expression. He had a strange, uncomfortable sensation that something wasn't quite right, though he couldn't put his finger on exactly what. Suddenly there was a buzzing sound from the front of the car. It took him quite a while to pinpoint the source of the sound, but then he noticed Hotch's mobile vibrating on the empty driver's seat. It must have fallen out of his pocket, Reid guessed, but before he had the chance to answer it fell silent once more.

* * *

After the call had rung out, Morgan immediately floored the accelerator, spinning the car into a u-turn and flying back the way they had come.

"Why wouldn't Hotch be answering his phone?" Prentiss asked in worry, trying to think of a reason that didn't involve him having already walked into the Unsub's trap.

"It might have run out of battery, or he could have left it in the office, or it's just off for some weird reason," Rossi suggested, though none of these really seemed plausible. Hotch was _always _available by phone, he had to be, after all, as the leader of their team.

"Come on!" Morgan cried, cursing loudly at the cars that wouldn't get out of their path despite the blaring siren and flashing lights. They had rejoined the main road now, and the built-up traffic was getting on his nerves. Hotch, Reid and JJ's lives could depend on them, and here they were, stuck in traffic.

"There _is_ still the chance _our _address is where the Unsub is," Prentiss whispered hopefully. "They might just be inside some old, deserted shack with no phone reception."

"I'll try calling JJ, see if I can get through," Rossi announced, pulling his phone hurriedly from his pocket.

"Damn, no, that won't work," Prentiss remembered with a defeated sigh. "JJ was complaining this morning that she couldn't find a charger anywhere, so she left her phone at home."

"This is crazy, it's like the Unsub planned it all," Morgan said, exasperated that there was rapidly becoming less and less they could do to warn their friends.

"Reid! I'll call Reid!' Prentiss gasped. She had overlooked him initially, forgetting that Hotch had eventually allowed him to come despite his recent brush with death.

* * *

Not long after Hotch's phone stopped ringing, his own phone began to buzz. He fumbled with it for a moment before finally pulling it from his pocket.

"Hello?" he answered, wondering who on earth would be calling _him_, and hoping he would remember them.

"Reid, oh thank god, are you okay? Where are Hotch and JJ?" Prentiss nearly screamed into the phone, so loud that Reid had to hold it at arm's length to prevent himself from going deaf.

"Uh, I'm fine… Who is this?" he queried, completely confused by the whole situation.

"Prentiss, it's Prentiss, remember? I'm in the team. Where are Hotch and JJ?" she persisted.

"They're just checking out the building, Hotch made me stay in the car because he said I shouldn't be out in the field even though the doctor discharged me and I'm perfectly fine apart from my loss of memory which wouldn't really effect my ability to investigate a property and…"

"REID!" Prentiss cried, cutting his rant abruptly short. "Call them back Reid, it might be a trap. The Unsub, we underestimated him, call them back!"

"What? Oh, okay. Hold on a sec…" he said, finally realising the urgency of the situation. Shock and worry twisted at the pit of stomach, which surprised and confused him slightly. Whilst it was apparent he'd know these people for a number of years now, he had no recollection of this. To him, right now, they were virtually strangers. He could barely remember their names, yet still he was overcome by sheer terror at the thought of them being in any kind of danger. He nearly fell out of the car, hurrying towards the door that Hotch had just kicked down. He and JJ had entered the premises only about 60 seconds earlier.

"Hotch! JJ! Come back, Prentiss says it's a trap," he yelled at the top of his lungs, the phone still clutched in his hand. There were footsteps, and then Hotch poked his head around the door frame.

"What did you say?" he called back, a confused frown on his face. Reid knew they were going for the surprise tactic, why would he call out all of a sudden and break their cover?

"IT'S A TRAP!" he screamed. A flash of horrified realisation cross Hotch's eyes, just moments before the building lit up with the red/orange flame, and the intense heat overwhelmed them.

* * *

Prentiss had put the phone on speaker, so all three agents heard the deafening bang. The horrified silence that followed was unbearable as they stared at each other, eyes wide and mouths ajar. They snapped back into reality a moment later, Morgan driving even faster than he had been, Prentiss snatching the phone up once again.

"REID? REID?! ARE YOU THERE? ARE YOU OKAY?!" she yelled desperately, tears brimming in her eyes with worry. They were still more than twenty minutes from the address, though with Morgan's sped they would hopefully arrive in less than ten.

"HOTCH? JJ?"

There was no reply, only the rushing sound of flames and the crackling of burning.

Meanwhile Rossi had dialled 911, reporting the explosion and requesting an ambulance and fire trucks in a wavering voice. He hung up shortly afterwards, redirecting his attention to Prentiss' call.

"He's not answering. None of them are answering," she murmured, turning to Rossi behind her, a single tear streaming down her cheek. Rossi put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, though he was too stunned to speak. The case had changed for the worse so suddenly, it was all like some sort of sick dream.

They were plunged into an agonising silence as Morgan raced them towards their friends at an insane speed, all praying they would make it in time. If it wasn't already too late.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Merry Christmas guys! At least, it's Christmas here in Australia, so depending on where you're reading this from maybe I should be saying Merry Christmas Eve!**

**Well, either way, I really hope you enjoy this chapter! And please review, as a Christmas present?**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

_**Chapter 7**_

They saw the fire in the distance long before they reached it, the smoke rising up into a billowing cloud above, an ugly dob of grey in the otherwise clear blue sky. Swirling fragments of dust surrounded them as they sped down the gravel track.

Prentiss had a lump in her throat, which only grew as they neared, since the majority of the building was obviously alight and burning fiercely. Morgan's driving skills had allowed them to cover distance remarkably fast, and they skidded to a halt outside the ablaze cabin even before the ambulance or fire brigade, parking right beside the other identical but empty vehicle.

Prentiss and Rossi both had their doors open before the SUV had even stopped, already running the second their feet hit the ground. Morgan didn't even bother to switch off the engine before he followed close behind. It was sweltering outside, the two story building still completely engulfed in the roaring flames.

Scanning the expanse between the cars and the rapidly melting property, it didn't take long for Prentiss to notice two figures lying motionless, only metres apart. She bolted towards them, her heart in her mouth, heeled boots skidding along the gravel in her haste. She knelt down beside Hotch, whose eyes were closed and face littered with fresh, still bleeding scratches. Rossi joined her moments later.

Morgan simultaneously rushed to Reid, who appeared to be in a slightly shape. He was completely dazed, and started at the touch of Morgan's hand on his shoulder. Blinking profusely to clear his blurred vision, he gazed around, stunned.

It took him a couple of moments to recall how he had ended up sprawled across the dirt, though thankfully he was barely injured at all, and even managed to hoist himself into a sitting position with a little assistance from Morgan.

"How are you feeling? Are you hurt?" Morgan asked as Reid rested his dizzy, heavy head against his muscular shoulder.

"Feel tired. Head hurts," Reid stammered, holding a hand to his already bandaged head. It had started to bleed again, though thankfully not heavily. Then suddenly he remembered the urgent phone call he'd received just prior to the explosion. "Hotch. How's Hotch?"

"He's unconscious," Prentiss called to across to Reid and Morgan over the roaring of fire whilst she continued to shake Hotch's shoulders gently in an attempt to wake him. Rossi inspected his injuries, and was relieved to notice the thickly padded vest had prevented any serious injury to their leader's torso. However, as he pulled the vest off as gently as he could, then unbuttoned the once white shirt beneath, dark purple bruises were already starting to appear. He couldn't help but think that, had Hotch not been wearing the vest, he might not have even been breathing now.

"He - he was up there," Reid stammered, pointing towards the entrance to the building, which was now barely visible behind the glowing blaze. "The explosion threw him down here, and then he blacked out. I was further away so it just knocked me over."

"That makes sense," Prentiss nodded. "All Hotch's injuries seem consistent with a fall rather than the explosion itself." She suspected Reid was downplaying his own injuries, since he had obviously been unconscious when Morgan had reached him, and was concerned for both him and Hotch. Then suddenly she realised with horror that JJ was nowhere to be seen, and gasped aloud.

"Reid, do you know where JJ is?" Morgan asked urgently, catching on to Prentiss' train of thought as their eyes met. He whipped his head from side to side, searching amongst the ash and smouldering debris, but there was no sign of her.

"I - I don't - I don't know," he stammered, resting most of his weight against Morgan's side just to stay in an upright position. His head throbbed painfully, his eyes drooping with exhaustion and the weariness of his aching body

"Reid, I think you should lie down again," Rossi suggested, noticing the dazed look in the young genius' eyes. He was too drained to resist, so relented as Morgan helped him lower his head gently to the ground.

"An ambulance should be here soon, just try to relax. Rossi and I are going to look for JJ," Morgan reassured him, realising just how traumatic this experience would be for Reid. Sure, they had all seen a lot in the many years they'd worked for the BAU, but Reid had absolutely no recollection of these experiences. Essentially this was Reid first case, and it was a traumatic one to say the least. Even Morgan, who had full memories of all their horrifying close calls - he along Hotch's entire family with the Reaper, Prentiss with Doyle, JJ and her family with the Face Cards, Elle with the Fisher King, Reid himself with Tobias Hankel - was scared. Hotch unconscious, Reid clearly more injured than he was letting on and JJ missing, most likely inside a burning building.

Once they were sure Reid understood and was coping okay, they glanced for a moment to check on Hotch and Prentiss before sprinting up to the door of the still burning house. Prentiss merely nodded in understanding, urging them inside with her meaningful gaze and silently promising that she had the situation with Reid and Hotch under control. Once they'd had this encouragement they didn't waste any further time, well aware of the danger JJ was currently in.

* * *

"JJ!" Morgan called, entering the smoke-filled hallway without hesitation despite the risks. Thankfully the fire hadn't enveloped the front of the building as of yet, though flying embers and the rapidly moving flames still posed a high threat.

"JJ? JJ, are you in here?!" Rossi yelled over the loud crackling of fire as he followed closely behind Morgan. They both covered their faces with their arms, trying their best to protect their eyes and lungs from the harmful smoke and flying embers.

However, smoke soon completely filled the air before them, and despite their best attempts to keep from breathing it in, both were wheezing and coughing after taking just a couple of steps inside. They had to squint to see through the thick haze, and sweat had begun dripping down their faces as they moved closer and closer towards the centre of the blaze. Time was really of the essence now, since the house had now been burning for close to fifteen minutes, and was constructed entirely of wood. At any given time it could collapse in on itself, burying them and JJ beneath two storeys worth of scorching hot scaffolding.

The pair made careful progress down the hall, checking each room they passed, Morgan on the right, Rossi the left. The place was huge, with at least five rooms just in this front section of the property. Their likelihood of finding JJ and then all three of them leaving alive was becoming slimmer and slimmer by the second.

Rossi almost missed the third room completely, since the door had swung almost completely closed and a haze of smoke made the distinction between wall and door near impossible. However, at the last moment he registered the round silver door handle, glinting with the reflection of fire, out of the corner of his eye. Moving back a step, he pushed it open, revealing what appeared to be a bedroom inside. Half the space was already enveloped by flames, though the section containing the neatly made bed was still in tact, for now at least. And there, almost invisible behind the billowing smoke, was the faint outline of a body with heeled boots and long blonde hair.

"MORGAN! She's here," he cried as he ran to her. He had to literally drag her delicate, unmoving frame from the path of the fire is it came closer and closer. Morgan reached them, gasping at the sight of his friend. She was covered in ash, her cheeks blackened and her hair filled with grime. Her eyes were closed, though they were thankful to notice the rise and fall of her chest that meant she was still alive, though her breaths seemed shallow and wheezy. The leg of her trousers was ablaze, and Morgan ripped off his shirt without a second thought to extinguish it. Then he collected her limp body up in his arms, running from the room just before it was engulfed entirely by the fire.

He and Rossi stumbled down the hall and finally outside, just as two ambulances and several fire trucks sped up to the property. They stumbled down the stairs and eventually collapsed onto the ground beside Prentiss, Hotch and Reid, coughing and spluttering whilst gulping at the clean air their lungs so desperately desired.

Prentiss hurried over to help them rest JJ carefully onto the dust. Hotch had regained consciousness whilst they had been inside, but he could barely open his eyes, let alone sit upright. Reid dragged his pain riddled body closer to the group, until they were all huddled together on the ground.

"Is she - is she - okay?" Hotch gasped quietly, barely able to breathe, let alone speak. He attempted to sit up, groaning at the sheer effort and pain, though Prentiss rest her palm against his shoulder to prevent him from injuring himself further.

"She'll be okay," she reassured, simply to convince him to lay still. From her limited knowledge he appeared to have fractured a couple of ribs, even _with_ the thick, protective vest, and his arms were littered with deep cuts and bruise. One was bent at an odd angle, immobile at his side, presumably broken. However, as leader of their team, he still felt responsible for the safety of them all, even when he himself was seriously injured. The distressed look on his typically emotionless face was disconcerting, though couldn't hide his worry for JJ in addition to the intense pain he was experiencing.

The ambulances had parked just metres from them, and two men hurried from the vehicles to them. Immediately they surrounded JJ, whose pulse was becoming fainter and fainter beneath Morgan's fingertips. Another paramedic, a woman this time, carried a stretcher beneath her arm, and the three together lifted JJ as gently as possible onto it before rushing her to one of the ambulances. Moments later it sped off, red and blue lights flashing and siren whooping.

Hotch was loaded onto a second stretcher, whilst Rossi, Morgan and Prentiss half carried, half dragged Reid to the ambulance. As it too sped off into the distance towards the nearest hospital, the three agents watched in stunned silence, still barely grasping the enormity of the events that had occurred in the last twenty minutes, which had felt like a full day at least.

Tears of terror, worry, stress and exhaustion began to drip one by one down Prentiss cheeks. She was simply unable to hold them back any longer. Her hands were shaking violently, and her legs felt suddenly light, as though they could no longer hold her weight.

Noticing her distress almost simultaneously, Rossi and Morgan embraced her into a group hug. It didn't take long before they too had tears in their eyes, the trauma they were still facing becoming too overwhelming to disguise. Sure, most of them had been injured on a number of occasions in the course of their work, but never had a single Unsub taken out half their team. It had all happened so suddenly that it was only now they could properly process it, as Hotch, Reid and JJ were rushed to receive urgent medical treatment. They had seriously underestimated their opponent, and had now learnt their lesson once and for all. _Never _would they make such a detrimental and dangerous mistake again.

At some point whilst they'd been distracted by the injuries of their friends, the fire brigade had extinguish the blaze, leaving only the blackened skeleton of a building that had stood tall just hours before. The trucks and their crews left shortly after, leaving the three agents alone, looking battered and exhausted from their ordeal.

They trudged to the car, physically and emotionally drained. Morgan and Rossi were covered with soot, their faces and hair streaked with the stuff. They would have laughed at their ridiculous appearance had the situation been different, but they just couldn't distract themselves from JJ, Hotch and Reid. Prentiss' hair was ruffled, and sweat was dripping down all of their brows from the intense heat. The sleeve of Rossi's black blazer had nearly disintegrated completely, having caught fire at some point and somehow putting itself out without its owner even noticing. Morgan's shirt was half burnt from putting out the fire on JJ's leg, and Prentiss had droplets of Hotch's blood on her sleeves and hands.

All in all, they made a rather dishevelled bunch as they climbed into the SUVs, Rossi taking the one Hotch had driven, Prentiss and Morgan together in the other, preparing themselves for another long, silent and worry-filled drive to the hospital.

* * *

Less than a mile from them, seated in an old rusty truck concealed behind a wall of trees and shrubbery, sat a man with a smirk spread across his ageing face. It had been from here that he'd waited expectantly but patiently for the team of agents. He had been slightly disheartened when only three agents arrived in their SUV, and even more so when just two had made their way inside the house. However, the thrill of pressing a single button and watching the entire place go up in flames had still sent a rush of adrenalin down his spine.

The chaos that had ensued was certainly entertaining; there was no doubt about that. It appeared that the two male agents, including Dr Reid himself, would survive, unfortunately, though the blonde girl looked at least unconscious from this distance.

But whilst this little payback on his enemy had been fun, he discovered to his surprise that he still far preferred being up close, able to listen to his victims agonised scream and watch as they writhed in pain. Whilst explosives caused much more damage, they seemed much less personal. He had no control over any of it. He couldn't watch the life flutter like a freed butterfly from the prison of their eyes, or their bodies turn pale as the blood drained from their wounds.

He smiled at these memories. Who'd have thought that a purely scientific endeavour would turn into something so… exhilarating?

Originally his plan had been to live legally; giving up his previous con man and fraudster ways for the safety and security of a legitimate job. This, he decided, would have to involve his passion - Ancient Egypt. But eventually science alone wasn't enough. He needed to experiment, to experience the ways of these people for _himself_ rather than simply read about them.

And so this whole new adventure had begun. He had discovered his one _true _passion. Far from being on the right side of the law, he had now discovered his life's purpose, the one thing that trilled him more than anything else.

Just after the final two SUVs drove into the distance, there was a thumping noise from the rear of the vehicle, and a muffled scream, though it sounded more like a whimper. He smiled to himself. This would be his last mummification, he decided. He was done with playing and taunting the FBI. Whilst it was entertaining, it wasn't his true purpose in this world. After this woman was disposed of he would leave the state, perhaps even the country. Then he could pray on whomever his heart desired.

But first he had once last score to settle. And this time _none_ of them would survive. He would be there, in person, to make sure of that.


End file.
